Month: June 2020

Back into the light

After what seems like a time of furious posting, I took a little time off to refocus.  During the last several months, with CV-19, the illness of my father and other personal disruptions, I think I poured all of my anxiety into my blog as a type of therapy.  For that, I apologize.

The day my father died, I spent an hour or so with him.  I held his hand and we talked, yes, I believe he was talking to me too.  I told him about my 2017 Camino, we’d discussed it a bit in the past, but I went into more detail.  It seemed very natural because life is very much like the Camino even in the sense that some believe that both life and the Camino continue after the physical end.

I also told my father about my return to Spain, a very different trip this past year.  I told him about placing a rock for my grandmother, his mother, on the way up to O’Cebreiro one of the days I walked with my friend Katja.

I also told him that when I return some day, I will place a rock for him someplace along the Way.  I think, he’ll enjoy the spot I choose, and I will always remember where it is.  I think he’ll enjoy watching the sun rise and set, the seasons changing and all the Pilgrims as they walk by.

This past year, I left a note and 2 talismans in a special place for my grandsons, Layden and Archer.  I’ve written a note with directions on where it is and how to find it, besides that note, only 2 people actually know where it is.  My hope is that they go to Spain and walk the Camino in search of my message and on their way, they remember their great-grandfather and his mother not knowing where their stones are so, I guess they are everywhere.

I hope I’m around to hear their stories.

Tread Softly

As Europe begins to open its borders and Pilgrims once again walk the Camino masked and physically distanced of course, I’m curious what the experience will be like.

The Camino, by its nature, is for most people a highly social event.  Will the smiles of joy be hidden away behind masks?  Will the laughter or the familiar greeting of Buen Camino be muffled beyond recognition?

Albergue life, always a close quarter activity will certainly become very much less so.  Communal kitchens and meals, are they for the time being a thing of the past?  Will the new fragrance of the Camino become the scent of hand sanitizer?

There’s a lot of physical contact on the Way, handshakes and hugs most notably and for those of faith, how will the Mass and communion experience change?  Will the very nature of the Camino as we knew it pre-Covid-19 be forever changed?

What about the weary and probably wary Spaniards, the hosts for all Pilgrims, how will they fare?  Understandably, I expect that most interactions will be a bit distant, certainly physically.  Will there be resentment towards the possibly infected visitors?  I hope not but I guess I can understand their fear and caution.  And how does one even begin to understand what must be a shocked populous of Santo Domingo de la Calzada?  With great care, I hope.

Finally, how will the 2020 Pilgrims act?  Will they be responsible, careful, thoughtful, sensitive, and respectful?  We all owe it to the people of Spain and those along the ancient Way to be all that and to tread softly.

I don’t have answers to any of these questions, I don’t think anyone does.  Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela this year and quite possibly next is going to require more than physical stamina.

The entire world is being impacted by Covid-19.  We’ve all endured stay at home, social isolation, illness and far too many deaths.  Some have dealt with it better than others and are receiving a small reward in the form of an intermission between the first wave and the inevitable second.  Here in the U.S., not so much so we just pretend that all is good and our President creates some other controversy to distract.

The difference between Spain and the rest of Europe and specifically the Camino in northern Spain is that unlike other places, the world in not marching through your towns every day.  So, I believe that we all owe them our best.  We do in the best of times too.

I believe that most people who are drawn to the Camino are big hearted, thoughtful, helpful, sensitive, and generous (however they can be).  I hope that as the Camino once again hosts people from Europe first and then the rest of the world, we all amplify those good traits when dealing with everyone but most especially the people whose lives we have or will walk through each day.

Finally, whatever it may be currently, the Camino lives first in our hearts I believe and we as humans have been adapting from the beginning.  Enjoy the experience, whatever it happens to be.  Enjoy the outdoors and your physically distanced Camino family.  And, be kind every day.

These next couple of years will be very telling for us all, I hope as we look back one day, it somehow becomes a shining moment in our history as people and how we treated one another during these trying times. 

Be safe and, Buen Camino.

Also posted on the Casa Ivar blog.

Death be not proud

My father died on the evening of June 17th.  Donald Jones was born on September 1, 1935 in the middle of the Depression in rural Dardanelle, Arkansas.

He died in Lake Kiowa, Texas from biliary cancer.  Fortunately, to the end, he said that he was not in pain.  The disease though did rob him of strength, he lost weight and the jaundice caused by his failing liver left him very yellow.

This though is not how I choose to remember my father.  Instead, I see the man who helped teach me to walk and talk.  The man who taught me how to swim and helped me learn how to ride a bicycle.  I will remember the man, who along with my grand-father, taught me how to fish.

I want to remember the man who taught me how to throw, catch and hit a baseball.  I will remember the man who taught me how to water ski.  I would say the man that taught me how to drive a car but for that, I owe my mother. I will remember the man who attempted to teach me algebra, he failed because algebra is Satan’s special hell.

My father liked to watch the Texas Rangers baseball team on television.  He could tolerate the Dallas Cowboys football team but in the last many years he had to hold his nose, like the rest of us as they stunk of the Eastern Conference.

My father taught me life lessons as well.  I wasn’t always the best student but eventually, I think I got most of it.  My father taught these lessons by explaining why you should or shouldn’t, the consequences or potential consequences and most of the time, he then left you on your own to figure out what to do.

I only had one really bad blow out with my father, mostly because I was 18 and stupid which when it comes to young males may be redundant.  So long ago, it’s hardly worth mentioning.

I didn’t care for his politics but then, he didn’t care for mine either.  We finally decided that we were best just not to discuss that subject and, we didn’t.

I choose to remember the man, the person that he was and not the disease that made him someone else that robbed him of his health and dignity. 

My father had 3 children, 5 grand-children and 7 great grand-children.  I loved my father and I will miss him very much.

Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;

John Donne

Equanimity

For many years, I’ve practiced meditation and it’s been helpful to me in greater or lesser ways most of my life. I first learned to meditate while I was in High School when I was 16 (I’ve said 17 many times but I realized that I was mistaken). Until recently I thought that I was incorporating it into my life effectively but, I’ve come to realize that I was not. I was using it as a tactic instead of a strategy.

I used meditation as a way to deal with something, often stress but I used it as a response to that stress (tactical) instead of approaching it as a way to understand and avoid the things that caused the stress (strategic). This approach came about out of ignorance of the bigger picture of life, I was 16 at the time, I had no idea of the value of meditation as a holistic approach to life in general. I also had very little additional formal training.

I won’t bore you with long ago and far away so I’ll try to keep my thoughts more recent. For the last several months, I have, we have, all had to deal with many stressful situations created by the Covid-19 pandemic and the resulting shelter in place, shortages, separation, illness and for some, loss.

Personally and on top of this, my fathers illness has added another level of anxiety and sadness. For most of us, there’s also the juggling act with our friends and family which we call life.

For me, I’ve been resisting these things, pushing back against them in a desperate hope that they would somehow resolve themselves in a manner that was less stressful or painful, as if by magic.

I’m now beginning to understand that the more I resist the inevitable, things I have no power over or don’t deserve, the worse they become or the longer the pain lasts. Karl Jung said ‘what we resist, persists’, and I have a much better understanding of how true that is.

As I began to examine these things, I began to understand ‘equanimity’ or mental calmness, evenness and composure. I’m beginning to understand being chill.

I heard a good example of equanimity in real life. Your walking down the street when suddenly a group of very loud motorcycles approaches, becoming louder as they do. You can become annoyed by the noise and disruption and if caught off guard even startled. You resist the noise the intrusion, maybe it makes you mad or hostile. It (the noise) and they (the riders) are problems. The Dalai Lama would call this an afflictive response, it’s damaging and it’s damaging you and those around you..

On the other hand, you can accept the intrusion and realize that you can’t change the noise or circumstance and it will go away. Let it pass, calm yourself, don’t inflict mental/emotional damage on yourself and others. Seek equanimity.

As I examine these last many months, I realize that I have become afflictive and I am hurting myself and others as a result. I cannot change what’s going on in the the world regarding Covid-19. I cannot change single handily what’s going on in America regarding race relations but, I can do my part positively and I will in a calm way.

Also, I cannot change the course of my father’s disease. No matter how upset I become, how angry I stay, I cannot change the prognoses. I can do whatever I can to comfort him and my mother. I can make sure that he knows that I love him and I can tell him again how much he did and does for me. But, I must accept and not resist the reality.

In our personal lives, there are things that we want or wish for that can never be and, there’s nothing that we can do to change that. Life is not unfair, it is just life. So, I (we) can resist accepting these things and continue to hurt myself and others or, I can let these things wash over me and even through me. Accepting that they are there, looking for the best outcome for everyone even if it may be less than what you may have hoped for.

Please don’t misunderstand, accepting in this regard is not capitulation. I don’t mean quit and don’t try but, once you’ve exhausted all realistic options, there comes a time of acceptance. I think of the students who while walking to Roncesvalles from Saint Jean Pied de Port gave up and got a taxi. They mistook accepting that they could not do it instead of the reality that they could do it, it was just going to be difficult. Sadly, they probably never thought to accept the difficulty. A lesson there I think.

I did not understand it at the time but the Camino was a month long introduction to equanimity. I felt no stress. If it rained, it rained. The old Spaniard spelled it out when he told me that it didn’t matter what the forecast was for tomorrow because “I will work and you will walk”, a simple acceptance of reality. And, the rain never came so I was worried for no reason at all yet, still I worried needlessly.

Search as we may, sometimes we need a guide to help us see and understand what is right before our eyes.

It all has to come from inside

Warning, if you think President Ass Clown and his flunky’s, including Attorney General Bill Barr’s walk of shame to Saint John Church while gassing and beating peaceful and lawful protesters was a good move, please go to another site.

I am a 63-year-old white man who was born in Texas and that’s where I’ve lived most of my life.  If you looked at only my demographics, you may not think that the Black Lives Matter movement would be important to me.  While it would be a stereotype, it is not an unreasonable stereotype unfortunately.  If you did however choose to stereotype me that way, you would be wrong, very wrong.

Sadly, it should matter to us all but, it does not.  In a country that has been divided for political and partisan reasons, in a culture which has become zero sum (if you get something it comes at my expense) and in an environment where it’s now okay to say out loud the hateful things you only thought except around “friends”, racial justice and equality should matter to us all.

We see it all the time, we know it’s happening.  A young black man does not walk through Highland Park, Texas (or many other places) without being “checked out” because clearly, he doesn’t belong there.  No thought given to the fact that he may live there, maybe his car broke down, he’s walking to work or, he’s just out walking.  He should know that he’s being watched, right?  Wrong!

George Floyd, a black man was murdered on live TV in Minneapolis, nothing new, it’s been happening to black men and women for years, don’t forget Sandra Bland in Waller County, Texas.  Pulled over for a minor traffic offense that most of us call “driving while black”.  She was arrested for arguing with a State Trooper.  She committed suicide in her cell after not being able to arrange bail…for a traffic stop.

Some White Americans sit by and say, what a shame.  I always thought that the racial intolerance held by white Americans would subside naturally over time.  My grand-father was a racist, he wasn’t born that way but it’s all he saw.  My father is better, I’m nothing at all like my grand-father and my children are far better than I am.  While I do think this process will eventually work, there’s just not time.  We must confront this now.

If you’re a racist, own it.  No need to keep it hidden, you’re not succeeding anyway.  If you are not but you tolerate racist jokes, racial intolerance or acts, it’s time to stop.  I would rather lose a friend by saying I won’t tolerate those things than to silently let them happen in my presence and being thought of as a co-conspirator, you know what I mean.

One of my daughters and I disagree as to the actions taken by some of the protestors.  Violence and looting, to me, is never the answer, period.  No matter how frustrated you may be, burning down your neighborhood, looting the CVS and generally creating mayhem will not solve the problem and it will definitely hurt access to affordable housing and exacerbate already poor access to local sources of fresh food and healthcare. 

I also think that to a certain extent the aggrieved parties, Black Americans, are once again being used by those with other agendas.

So, I’m asked what is the solution if not violent confrontation?  I don’t have a grand plan, I don’t think anyone does but, burning and looting is not ever a good plan.  So, what would I do right now?  The first step for me would be a simple one, find out if the restraint used on Mr. Floyd is legal and used here in Dallas and Texas generally.  If it is, it should not be and anyone who uses it should be disciplined, immediately.

I would begin immediately on evaluating how to avoid confrontations and how to de-escalate those that do occur.  Cops also have to know that intolerance and illegal, immoral and unethical actions will not be tolerated because often, they still are.  Police officers must also not hesitate to intervene and/or report those actions.  The thin blue line is not there to protect bad actors on the police force.

We must also do away with the “don’t be a snitch” mentality by the police and by any community that witness illegal acts.  Our right to protest is constitutional.  We have no right to burn, loot and destroy or harass and abuse American’s because of the color of their skin..

I gladly stand with those who want to protest and demand these long-awaited changes.  I will work, however I can to find a long term solution regarding police training and necessary legal changes.

For a blog that started because of my preparing to walk The Camino de Santiago, the Way of Saint James, this is also a journey and Way. This Way is to tolerance and change. But the change we need most is a change of heart.  As Jimmy Hendrix said, “it all has to come from inside.”  We can no longer stand by and say it doesn’t affect me because it does and it always has.

BLACK LIVES MATTER!

The Poet

Reluctant, cautious, but driven all the same. Rejection and intolerance, wary of the pain.  From early days the poems did play but hidden they would stay. The words jumble, until they tumble, onto paper through his pen.

Cautious steps taken, by foot and in his mind. Spirit liberated and celebrated, unfolding slowly, for it’s time.  By arm he’s guided, his Muse there, always by his side.  Gently first then firmly, the lessons he did abide.  The words jumble, until they tumble, onto paper through his pen.

Realized now the words are his and a light shown on his soul.  They do so liberate and motivate these letters on each scroll.  Free at last for all to see, and fearful not at all.  The words jumble, until they tumble, onto paper through his pen.

The Poet feared judgement, by a world, on things they’d never understand.  Fear nothing whispered the Muse except that which goes unpenned. The words jumble, until they tumble, onto the paper through my pen.